CHAPTER TEN
Cyrus may walk away looking like a picture-perfect version of calm, but I know better. He won’t do well without his ten minutes of prep time where he visualizes his win. Races will now be completed with athletes knocking each other out to continue to the next round. They’ll each race twice with the loser of the first having to start that many seconds later on the second run. Thenit’s the first person across the finish line on race two to win it all.
Seriously, it’s the most screwed up system ever. If I wasn’t Cyrus’ friend, I would be one of those people to stand on the sidelines and cheer totally unaware of what is actually going on.
The competitors are down to eight people with Cyrus racing against the third finisher of the qualification rounds, someone from China.
McKenna flips through the top paper on her clipboard. “Cyrus races third. Would you like me to stay with you and watch or get more info on what the hell Dexler was thinking detaining him right before a race?”
“Actually, I’d really prefer it if you found out what’s going on.” I’m focused on Cyrus’ race right now, but once he finishes I’ll be out for blood.
She nods. “Okay, I’ll be back and letyou know.”
“Thanks,” I say not taking my eyes from the large window.
McKenna leaves and I button up my coat to head outside. I’ll have a better view of the race from the TV in here, but I’d rather be outside closer to Cyrus. More in the action. He would do the same for me
The first two races take forever. A Canadian knocks out a Scandinavian from the first race and in the second, a competitorfrom England takes out a Swedish athlete.
The announcers call for the competitors of the third race. Cyrus stands at the top of the hill and gets into position. I immediately close my eyes.
I can’t do it again.
I’m not over the adrenaline spike from the whole fiasco with security. I can’t ask my body or my nerves to go through another set of races.
The buzzer sounds, and I open one eye towatch Cyrus’ run on the television screen. It’s a few feet away from where I stand, inside the booth where athletes wait before they race, but I am able to make out enough to follow along.
Cyrus twists and bends around each of the flags, kicking up snow on the bases. He’s neck and neck with the other racer, and the two of them cross the finish line milliseconds from each other. But Cyrus is behind.He doesn’t stop and do any of the small congratulatory fist bombs or talk to his coach at the base of the hill like you would expect. Again without any fanfare, he rides the lift back to the top.
That’s never a good sign. Cyrus is always one to stop and crack a joke with the judge or some reporter on the sidelines. Except for today. He hasn’t been his normal happy self once today. It’s not goodto have an off day on a race day.
He makes it to the top of the hill and even though I’m too far away for him to see me I scream, “Come on, Cyrus.”
There isn’t much of a break between their heats. The Chinese competitor lines up quickly as well. My nose freezes and my teeth chatter, but I stick my fingers in my pockets to warm them up. I didn’t have time to grab mittens or my hat, and the longerI stand outside, the more the elements bite against my skin. It’s cold.
The sound blares and the two racers are off. Cyrus’ gate opens a perceived fraction of a second later. They battle against one another, but at the fourth flag Cyrus’ body tips, his back not so much parallel to the ground but in a worrisome amount of perpendicular.
“Oh my God,” I say pulling in my hands from my pocket tocover my mouth.
I stop breathing as he regains control of his snowboard in time to make it around the next flag. The mistake costs some valuable time and the snowboarder from China is a flag ahead. Cyrus battles to catch up but is running out of ground to do so. The giant slalom makes this race faster than events like the regular parallel slalom. There’s no time to waste.
Cyrus does his bestto speed up and make up the gap between him and his competitor, but as he rounds the second to last gate, he doesn’t have enough time to do it. The Chinese boarder tucks himself in to wrap around the final flag and hit the finish, but he gets too close. The edge of his board catches on his flag and rather than twist around it he falls overtop. He rolls twice and stands up on his board still crossingthe finish line before Cyrus.
But it doesn’t matter.
Cyrus won!
I sit in the snow covered grass, unconcerned with getting my pants wet. The crowd from the stands cheers uncontrollably, but I refuse to celebrate until I hear an official announcement. Eyes locked on the TV screen, I silently pray and wait for the call to be made. It takes less than a minute, and the board lights up with the announcementwe knew would come. The Chinese racer is disqualified, based on his failure to hit each of his gates. It’s okay for an athlete to touch the flag or even knock it with their snowboard, but they have to make it around. Falling over the top doesn’t count.
Cyrus won’t like knowing he won because of a disqualification, but I do not give two shits.
A win is a win.
He’s made it to the semifinals,which means regardless of how it ends, he’s in the top four.
There won’t be time to see him in between the next races as the semifinals and finals happen quickly. Race officials will keep the athletes closer to the starting area rather than allowing them to come inside. Unlike Cyrus, who is wearing a specially created jacket made to be warm yet breathable and allow him a large range of movement,I’m outside in a regular winter jacket. And no extra coverings.
Standing, I brush the snow off my butt and walk back inside. The next two finals will have to be watched from the large TV in the waiting room.
